


Can I Kiss You?

by Sarolonde



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mild Smut, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:43:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarolonde/pseuds/Sarolonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Bokuto made Tsukishima laugh, a genuine and uncontrolled laugh, he fell in love with him. It happened randomly, Bokuto can’t even remember what he said or did to make Tsukishima laugh, but the delightful deep sound, rumbling in his chest, and the stretch of his mouth made Bokuto swallow hard.</p><p>It’s still the most beautiful thing he’s seen or heard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I Kiss You?

**Author's Note:**

> This is such a cliché fic and I love it. BokuTsuki need and deserve cliché fics! Things I’m supposed to be writing: not this ^_^ it got stuck in my head and I HAD to write it. I wrote it so easily too, I love these two boys <3  
> FYI they're all in the same year at the same school.

The first time Bokuto made Tsukishima laugh, a genuine and uncontrolled laugh, he fell in love with him. It happened randomly, Bokuto can’t even remember what he said or did to make Tsukishima laugh, but the delightful deep sound, rumbling in his chest, and the stretch of his mouth made Bokuto swallow hard. His throat went dry and his heart skittered like it did when he hit that perfect spike. Any and all humour fell from his face and he just _stared,_ because how could he not?

It’s still the most beautiful thing he’s seen or heard.

In the time since all his time spent with Tsukishima has been spent trying to make him laugh. Bokuto fails a lot, receiving numerous eye rolls and clicks of the tongue, but they’re so worth it when the blond makes that uninhibited, joyful noise again and again. Bokuto is addicted to it. Obsessed. In love.

 

* * *

 

He walks so casually, long legs swinging effortlessly to carry him forward fast enough that, even in his laziest gate, people have to hurry to keep up. There is a soft, deep blue scarf wrapped around his elegant neck, replacing the white headphones that usually rest there. His hands, slender and deft, are tucked away in his pockets; his long limbs giving him bad circulation and his hands suffering in the cold.

Bokuto has become rather adept at discreetly watching Tsukishima. The only ones that notice him doing it are the people that _know_. Like Akaashi, who just elbowed him in the side, drawing Bokuto’s attention and saving him from getting caught staring. Okay, so _maybe_ he’s not that discreet.

“Tsukishima, are you helping Bokuto with his English today?” Akaashi asks in his usual indifferent tone that, when you know him well enough, you know isn’t actually indifferent.

The three of them are walking home after school because they live near each other. It’s like this after every school day or volleyball practice.

Bokuto and Akaashi have been friends since elementary school and then they met Tsukishima in junior school. It took them a while to become friends with the tall boy, he’s even more of a closed book than Akaashi, but Bokuto seems to be somewhat of a skilled book opener and since the start of high school they’ve become close. Too close in Bokuto’s case, considering the unshakeable crush he has on Tsukishima.

The blond pushes his glasses up his nose as he hums an affirmative and drawls, “Hence why I’m still with you.”

It’s difficult to describe exactly why Bokuto likes the prickly, teasing, detached boy. He’s certainly attractive with his sharp eyes, fair skin and soft, curling blond hair, but growing up with Akaashi has made Bokuto mostly immune to prettiness. It’s more than that. It’s the way Tsukishima carries himself, the way he secretly cares, the way he explains things as if they’re obvious and the way he’s just so damn clever. It isn’t one specific thing, it’s a lot of little things that he simply can’t ignore.

“Tsukki’s gunna help me ace this next test!” Bokuto declares, slinging an arm around his shoulders which makes the taller boy hunch against him. “With Tsukki’s help I can’t fail!”

“That’s inaccurate, you’re more than capable of failing with my help,” Tsukishima grunts under Bokuto’s weight, not bothering to shrug away. “I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Aw, Tsukki, don’t sell yourself short. You ace _everything_ , therefore _I’ll_ ace everything!”

“That makes no sense.”

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Akaashi says, turning down a different street. The dark haired boy narrows his eyes at Bokuto, giving him the don’t-do-anything-stupid look; a frequently occurring expression in Bokuto’s presence.

“See ya Akaashi!” Bokuto yells and waves heartily, easily overpowering Tsukishima’s farewell.

Bokuto feels Tsukishima squirm under his weight and is suddenly very aware of how close and alone they are. What he really wants to do is draw back and slide his hand into Tsukishima’s, hold it between his own and warm those long cold fingers. But of course he can’t do that, because that would require them to be more than _just friends_ , so instead Bokuto pulls away and walks alongside him silently.

The silence barely lasts a few seconds because Bokuto’s defence against awkwardness or nervousness is talking, about anything and everything. Tsukishima seems disinterested but he always listens carefully and gives deadpan, snide remarks every now and then. Talking with him is natural, easy and fun; it’s just so fucking comfortable. Bokuto loves it.

“Get any more confessions today?” Bokuto asks as they enter his bedroom. He’s not sure why he asks – _maybe I’m a masochist, it would explain a lot_ – but Tsukishima gets confessions from girls at school all the time. Yamaguchi often talks about the girls that frequently ask him about his best friend. It’s understandable, Tsukishima is really cool, and who is Bokuto to judge them when he feels exactly the same way.

 _No, not the_ same _way,_ I _actually know him!_ Bokuto argues with himself, jealous and ridiculous.

“Yes,” Tsukishima hisses, Bokuto’s only saving grace is that the blond hates getting confessions.

Bokuto chuckles, throwing his bag on his bed to retrieve the books he needs. “Walk away from her mid confession again?”

“No, I was polite this time. It was painful. Why do they have to cry and act like _I_ did something wrong? How is it _my_ fault they’re idiotic enough to like me?”

Giving a noncommittal shrug in hopes of dropping the conversation Bokuto sits on his bed and leans back against the wall. They’ve studied together on numerous occasions, in Bokuto’s room even, so Tsukishima is comfortable enough sitting down on the bed beside him.

They go through the work easily; Tsukishima is a good teacher. Bokuto works extra hard to keep his attention on the English work and the explanations rather than the effect Tsukishima’s voice has on him or the heavy, heated sensation against his skin where their shoulders are touching. If he didn’t have to ignore those feelings Bokuto knows it would be so easy between them. Bickering, kissing, holding each other, talking, studying and training. In his head it makes so much sense.

_So why can’t it be real…?_

“Can I kiss you?” Bokuto asks before he can lose his nerve.

Tsukishima glances up, confusion furrowing his brow. “Why?”

_Shit._

“Uh—um, p-practice?” he stutters and internally cringes at the pathetic excuse.

Tsukishima is quiet, eyeing him and frowning with his ever unreadable expression. “Why don’t you ask Akaashi?”

 _Because he’s straight,_ Bokuto thinks. _And I’m really hoping you’re not because I really like you and want to kiss you. Considering you haven’t said 'no' yet…_

“Because I’m asking you.”

“No.”

It takes every ounce of control for his shoulders not to visible slump with disappointment. Tsukishima says ‘no’ a lot, to most things Bokuto asks, he’s fairly certain it’s his default answer, but this is by far the worst ‘no’ he’s ever heard.

“Why not? We’re friends! And it’ll be good practice for when—” _we’re more than friends_ “—for when we get girl—for when we have people to kiss.”

“I don’t want to kiss _people_.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous! It’s probably, like, awesome. I mean people enjoy it for a reason.”

Tsukishima’s pale brown eyes narrow on him before he clenches his jaw and turns back to the book in his lap. Bokuto can see that he’s not actually reading it though, that he’s thinking. Instead of rambling like he usually would, making some kind of excuse about it being a joke or something, he bites his tongue and waits patiently for Tsukishima to make up his mind.

“Fine.”

“Wh- _What_?” Bokuto splutters, utterly incredulous.

The blond shrugs his shoulders and he lifts his head from the book, slowly turning to face him. Bokuto sits there a moment, eyes as wide as saucers because _this isn’t happening. This_ can’t _be happening._

“Why are you surprised? You’re the one that asked,” Tsukishima points out, his brow creasing slightly.

_Oh shit, okay, this is happening. Bo, do something!_

“Oh, uh, sorry! I just… Okay.”

Bokuto shuffles around, using all his self-control to not throw all the books off the bed and shove Tsukishima down to push his tongue into his mouth. Tsukishima follows suit, placing the book on the floor and turning to face Bokuto. Their knees are touching and in the way; Bokuto wants to unfold Tsukishima’s long legs and wrap them around his waist, but he can’t do that.

Neither of them make any move at first, just watching each other as if waiting for the other to back down and laugh it off. Bokuto is begging himself to stop freaking out and Tsukishima is probably questioning his own sanity.

“I-I’ll just…” Bokuto mumbles, leaning closer. His hand rises instinctively to cup Tsukishima’s cheek and he angles his head as he closes the distance between them, the gold brown eyes watching him flutter closed. The sensation of their lips brushing draws Bokuto short, a shiver runs down his spine as Tsukishima exhales against his mouth like he’s been holding his breath. It encourages Bokuto and he presses their lips together.

It’s soft, softer than he imagined Tsukishima’s thin lips feeling, and warm, so very warm. Which doesn’t make much sense because the taller boy isn’t exactly a warm person, but their innocent press of lips sends fire through Bokuto’s body. It’s so simply, so incredibly innocent but, shit, it feels so fucking good.

The quiet wet smack of their lips as Bokuto pulls back echoes in his ears. He opens his eyes to see Tsukishima’s flutter open and immediately glance down at his mouth.

“Is that… Was that…?” Bokuto mutters under his breath, unable to actually get the question out because, wow, being this close to Tsukishima – wrapped in his heady scent and staring into those brilliant honey coloured eyes – is intoxicating.

Tsukishima’s only response is a low hum before he leans forward to kiss him again. Bokuto takes it as a positive response, considering the pleasant warmth at his mouth again.

Bokuto moves his lips experimentally, pressing a few chaste kisses before Tsukishima gives him the opening to take his bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it. The blond’s breath leaves him in a rush and this close it’s impossible not to hear the quiet moan at the back of his throat. It sends electricity down Bokuto’s spine and settles familiar aroused warmth in his abdomen. His fingers move around Tsukishima’s neck and into his – _yep, it’s really fucking soft_ – blond hair, locking his fingers in it.

If anyone had told Bokuto his first kiss would be like this – warmth humming under his skin and his heart rabbiting excitedly in his chest – he would have done it a lot sooner. He’s fairly certain most of the blissful feeling bursting to life within him are due to Tsukishima though.

Tsukishima’s hands settle on his thighs and it turns Bokuto’s experimental tongue swiping and licking into something much more forceful as he pushes his tongue inside his mouth. The taller boy stiffens but he doesn’t move away. Bokuto’s eyes fly open and when he’s met with wide gold eyes he pulls back.

“Sh-shit, sorry!” Bokuto apologises quickly, suddenly aware of how heavily he’s breathing.

“I—No, it’s okay. I was just—just surprised.”

To prove that he’s okay his long fingers grip at Bokuto’s thighs. Which he would _absolutely_ and _definitely_ notice if not for the entirety of his attention being draw to Tsukishima’s slightly kiss swollen and very temptingly pink lips. It’s really unfair that everything about him makes Bokuto _want_ so much.

Dragging his gaze from his mouth Bokuto forces himself to meet his eyes, and that is… _not any fucking better!_ Tsukishima’s gaze is heavy lidded, honey coloured irises a thin circle around lust blown pupils.

“So…” Bokuto swallows hard, and then clears his throat. “Is it… Can we…? More?”

_Wow, great, nice full sentences. Just bash him over the head with your mallet you fucking caveman._

Tsukishima’s eyes are watching Bokuto’s mouth when he shrugs, the movement so slight it’s barely recognisable. Bokuto takes the fact that the blond can do nothing but stare at his mouth and isn’t moving away as more permission than the did-it-even-happen-or-was-that-my-imagination shrug. So he leans in once more to take Tsukishima’s mouth.

 _Fuck, I will_ never _get sick of this._

 

* * *

 

Sweat rolls down between his shoulder blades and a pleasantly familiar ache burns through every muscle in his body. It hurts so _good_ and he can’t help but grin with the satisfactory feeling that settles deep in his bones.

Bokuto loves volleyball practice. The squeaking, yelling, slamming, grunting sounds. The sweaty, floor polish, synthetic leather ball, warm smells. The feeling of stinging skin. The jolt through your feet and legs when you land from spike or serve. The bruises from diving, receiving and accidentally tumbling when you go for the ball far too enthusiastically.

Volleyball games are better but there is something special about the pained comradery when training hard with your team.

“One more!” Bokuto calls far too aggressively to Akaashi, the predatory grin spread across Kuroo’s face on the other side of the net annoying him.

“No,” Akaashi responds decisively.

“ _What_? Why?”

“That’s enough for today Bokuto-san.”

“But _Akaashi_! I still have so much energy!”

“Fuck, bro, is your energy limitless?” Kuroo chuckles, ducking under the net to sling an arm over his shoulders. “Sorry dude, you’ll have to find another way to burn all that energy.”

At that Bokuto’s eyes flicker to Tsukishima instinctively, luckily the blond is facing away, starting to pack away the net. Both Akaashi and Kuroo notice the movement of his gaze but neither of them say anything, Kuroo merely chuckles and pats him on the back before going to help Tsukishima.

The two of them know about his crush; they don’t, however, know about the vigorous make out sessions he and Tsukishima have been having for the last two weeks. It’s the biggest secret he’s ever sat on and it’s uncomfortable to keep, squirming inside him, begging to be spoken about. But he won’t. Tsukishima would hate it, and Bokuto could never do that to him.

Kuroo is discussing blocking tactics with Tsukishima as they go back to the locker room to shower and change. The two middle blockers get caught up in their conversation as Bokuto and Akaashi shower.

It’s difficult for Bokuto to listen to them talk sometimes; for two people so different they get along exceedingly well. Tsukishima clearly has a lot of respect for Kuroo and Kuroo enjoys Tsukishima’s sharp mind and sense of humour. Bokuto recognises the jealousy that blazes inside him whenever they talk, but they’re just friends… _Just friends like me and Tsukki?_

Shaking himself from the painful thoughts Bokuto leaves the shower, passing Tsukishima and Kuroo who are finally getting in and forcing himself _not_ to look at the blond. Bokuto rests his head against the locker and heaves a sigh.

_Why do I let this shit get to me so easily?_

“Bokuto,” Akaashi’s gentle, concerned voice makes him look up to meet those calming dark green eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He notices that Akaashi is fully dressed in his clean clothes and wonders how long he’d been leaning against the locker. The dark haired boy eyes him dubiously. Because of course he’s going to notice.

“You’ve been unusually distracted for a couple of weeks Bokuto.”

“Is it affecting my spiking?”

“Well, no—”

“Then it doesn’t matter,” Bokuto snaps, jerking his clothes out of his locker. When he meets Akaashi’s patient gaze again he sighs. “I’m fine Akaashi, it’s just some school work I’m having trouble with. It’ll be fine.”

“Isn’t Tsukishima helping you?”

Bokuto grimaces and fiddles a loose thread on his shirt. “Of course he—”

“I’m not a miracle worker,” Tsukishima drawls, ambling over to his locker.

His voice draws Bokuto’s gaze to him and after all that careful avoiding Bokuto now avidly watches droplets of water roll down the long expanse of his pale back. Tsukishima is slender with just the right amount of muscle filling him out between his narrow waist and around his shoulder blades. Bokuto knows firsthand that the blond is a lot stronger than he looks; that he has an imperceptible core strength developed from three years of senior volleyball. Bokuto loves everything about Tsukishima’s long limbed, mouth-watering body. He really wishes he hadn’t looked.

“Dude, how are you not dressed yet?” Kuroo questions as he enters, thankfully drawing Bokuto’s attention from tall, blond and handsome.

Bokuto glances down at himself and yep, he’s still naked with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“I, uh—I got distracted.”

Kuroo chuckles a ‘typical’ that would be mean but Bokuto knows it’s simply Kuroo’s way of covering for Bokuto’s mood, underplaying it and saving him from questions. Bokuto gets changed slowly, trying really hard not to sulk, but who is he kidding, he’s sulking.

“We’re going to go ahead of you two slow asses,” Kuroo chimes, slapping Bokuto on the shoulder on his way out.

_Who two?_

“Don’t take too long,” Akaashi reminds, following the captain out the door.

 _Oh shit. Alone. With Tsukki. Half naked in the change rooms. Great,_ Bokuto thinks sarcastically. He’s probably been spending too much time with Kuroo and Tsukishima lately since half of his thoughts are sarcastic now.

“Are you okay Bokuto?” Tsukishima asks, as if on cue.

“Yeah, I’m—”

_Fuck._

Tsukishima is standing close, too fucking close. His shirt isn’t on straight and sticking to his damp skin to reveal a sliver of milky white skin over the jut of his hipbone. He’s not that much taller than Bokuto but for some reason it feels like Tsukishima is gazing down at him, which is just… Not good. How can merely someone’s close presence and intense gaze send blood rushing to his dick?

“Don’t lie to me, I won’t accept it as easily as Akaashi does. What’s wrong? You’ve been fidgety and distracted all week.”

“I-I can’t—I don’t want to talk about,” Bokuto responds in a small voice far from the ferocity that he’d snapped at Akaashi with.

Tsukishima’s brow furrows and he pursues his lips. “It’s not like you to be so timid. Maybe you just need…”

Bokuto watches with wide eyes as the blond leans in, stopping a few inches from his face and breathing steadily against his mouth. _That’s the opposite of what I need,_ Bokuto whines internally but he doesn’t move, the promise of Tsukishima soft lips and wandering tongue too good to refuse.

The anticipation is almost as good as the kiss itself. _Almost._

When Tsukishima finally closes the gap his warm mouth feels like home. In two short weeks their kissing has become so natural and effortless that Bokuto doesn’t even have to think about wrapping his arms around Tsukishima as his hands grip at Bokuto’s waist and push him back against the lockers, pressing their bodies together.

The kiss starts so affectionate and comforting that Bokuto thinks that Tsukishima may even feel the same way about him but those thoughts quickly fade as it grows heated. Tsukishima pushes his knee between Bokuto’s thighs and his tongue slides deep into Bokuto’s mouth, tracing along his teeth. Bokuto groans with pleasure at the intrusion, his jaw dropping open, wanting more, needing more. He pushes his hands up the back of Tsukishima’s shirt to feel that damp, pale, perfect skin.

Tsukishima stiffens and pulls away. Bokuto panics for a moment, worrying that he’s done something wrong, but then he hears the footsteps and whistling growing closer. Their eyes widen and they look each other over. Even if their hair is already messy from the shower – Bokuto’s hanging over his forehead without its usual styling – they’re mouths are swollen and red, pupils blow wide and they’re both incredibly and visibly hard.

Bokuto’s heart is hammering in his chest for a whole new reason, and he’s resigned himself to an unbearably embarrassing confrontation when Tsukishima grabs his wrist and pulls him into the nearby cleaning closet.

“Good—” _thinking_. His voice is swiftly muffled by a hand held firmly over his mouth as Tsukishima pulls Bokuto back against his chest.

_This closet is really small…_

There are metal framed shelves that leave no room for the two of them, hell, Bokuto’s fairly certain even by himself it would be a tight squeeze. He’s far too broad for squeezing. He can feel Tsukishima’s arousal against his tailbone and the position is way too… He can’t… He needs to move but just as he’s about to shuffle someone enters the locker room.

Bokuto has no time or mental capacity to even contemplate who it is because when his mouth falls open with surprise one of Tsukishima’s long fingers pushes in. The way the taller boy stiffens behind him tells him that it’s accidental but Bokuto sucks it in before he can pull it out, laving his tongue around it. Tsukishima’s head falls onto his shoulder as he stifles a moan against Bokuto’s neck.

_More, he needs more._

Tilting his head Bokuto sucks another finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them easily as saliva floods his mouth. He pushes his hips backwards, arms moving back to hold Tsukishima’s arse as he rubs against his hardness.

It isn’t until Tsukishima groans, low and needy and loud, at his ear that Bokuto actually realises that whoever came into the locker room is gone. He turns around abruptly, elbow bashing into the door, and immediately drops to his knees.

“No,” Tsukishima grunts out between heavy breaths, eyes wide and apprehensive as he looks down at Bokuto, shaking his head. “No.”

Everything stills as he gazes up at Tsukishima. Bokuto can feel his heart hammering in his chest, so clear and loud it’s deafening in the silence that has enveloped them. He went too far. He pushed too much. He can’t help but feel like this is the moment Tsukishima walks away, the moment that all hope fades.

“Sorry, I—”

“No,” Tsukishima says firmly, but his fingers card through Bokuto’s soft, damp hair so gently that his eyes flutter and he tilts his head into it. Tsukishima sucks in a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself for something. “N-not here.”

Bokuto’s eyes go wide and slowly stands again, a smile stretching across his mouth. The kiss he presses to Tsukishima’s mouth is very toothy but he can feel a smile curling Tsukishima’s lips too, so he doesn’t care. It feels nice. It feels good.

_I’ll never get sick of this…_

 

* * *

 

Bokuto stares at the message conversation, reading it and reading it, over and over and over. It’s not even a long conversation, the part he’s focussed on anyway, it’s barely two sentences, but he’s staring at it as if it’ll magically change and magically give him all the answers he desperately _needs_.

 **[09:47] me**  
wat ru doin today?

 **[09:51] tsukki**  
Home alone doing homework, like you should be.

That’s an invitation right? ‘Home alone’? Usually Bokuto would ask, if it were anyone else he’d simply and shamelessly ask without caring whether he’s being too forthright. But this is _Tsukishima_ , this is important. Bokuto _cares_ what he thinks and it makes everything so _difficult_.

Heaving a sigh he scrolls through his contacts and dials ‘the broest of bros’. The lazy answer of ‘yo’ through the receiver settles his nerves almost instantly.

“Bro, I need help, Akaashi is no good with this shit,” Bokuto says without preamble. He needs to talk about this and he needs to talk about it now.

“ _With what shit?_ ” Kuroo questions.

“I want Tsukki to be my boyfriend.”

Kuroo chuckles. “ _Dude I hate to break it to you but I just don’t think Tsukki wants those kinds of things. I mean, he’s so closed and unresponsive. He may even be aro or ace._ ”

Bokuto snorts at that, Tsukishima is the _furthest_ thing from asexual, but he continues on. “How did you get Yaku to be in a relationship with you?”

“ _I kissed his face off in the locker room._ ”

Bokuto sighs. “Yeah, well, I’ve been blowing Tsukki for two weeks, somehow I don’t think a simple kiss will do it.”

Kuroo makes a strangled noise and starts choking. “ _Y-you what?_ ”

“Blowing him,” Bokuto speaks exaggeratedly slow, clear and loud. Good thing his family isn’t home. “Blowing each other, making out, hand jobs; pretty much everything short of penetration. Fuck, that’d be nice though…”

“ _I… You and Tsuk—what the_ fuck _Bo? How do I not know this? Does_ anyone _know this?_ ”

“Well, I sure hope Tsukki knows otherwise that’d be super awkward,” Bokuto chuckles to himself but his smile drops quickly. “That was just a joke! He knows. With all the moaning and shit he _definitely_ knows.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Bokuto sighs heavily. “Because I really like him bro. Tsukki’s just so… I can’t stop thinking about him, like, ever. I want to spend all my fuckin’ time with him. He’s so imperfectly perfect, y’know?”

“ _Yeah, no, I know about your giant crush on him. I meant, why is this happening?”_ Kuroo questions, but is only met with silence as Bokuto frowns with confusion _. “As in… How is it that you’re blowing him on a semi-regular basis—_ ”

“Regular. A very regular basis.”

“ _Really…? You said two weeks_.”

“ _Very_ regular,” Bokuto affirms, rather proudly.

“ _Fine—on a_ very _regular basis and you’re not in a relationship with him? You’ve had feelings for Tsukki for, like, a year, you probably shouldn’t have started a friends with benefits thing with him_.”

Groaning, Bokuto scrubs his free hand down his face and starts pacing his room. “It was an accident! When I first suggested kissing to him I panicked and said it was practice! And it kinda snowballed from there. Which is a bad word to use in this context… There is _no_ snowballing!”

“ _So… You_ blow _each other for practice…?_ ”

“I… Yeah? I guess? We never really talked about that too much. It just felt good when we did it and kept doing it.”

“ _This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, which, when it comes to you, is really saying something_ ,” Kuroo says, exasperated. “ _Tsukki is attractive and gets plenty of attention from the girls at school, I know you know this because you frequently whine about it. If he simply needed someone to get him off there’s plenty of choice for him. He’s blowing you because he_ wants _to, because he_ likes _you. Jesus, go talk to him Bo_.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I’ll just go talk to him. Fuckin’ genius Kuroo,” Bokuto snorts, sarcasm lacing his words. Then, he stops pacing, his eyes widening with an idea. “Oh my God, I should _talk_ to him!”

Kuroo groans and there is a loud thud, likely dropping his head on his desk. “ _You’re a moron and Tsukki avoids everything. Good luck with that relationship bro._ ”

“Hey! We’re going to be perfect together… We _are_ perfect together…? Whatever!”

“ _Yeah, good start_.”

“Oi, shut up, your boyfriend kicks you in the shin on a _very_ regular basis!”

“ _I know, isn’t it adorable_ ,” Kuroo says, an affectionate grin discernible in his voice. “ _For the love of fuck, go talk to Tsukki!_ ”

“Okay, okay! Wish me luck bro!”

“ _I already did._ ”

“Right… true.”

“ _Stop stalling!_ ”

“But I don’t want to,” Bokuto whines into the phone, slumping down on his bed. “Tsukki is scary!”

“ _You’ve had your dick in his mouth, that’s some fuckin’ trustworthy shit, he can’t be_ that _scary. Go, now, or so help me Bo, I will tell him myself._ ”

“You wouldn’t,” he gasps dramatically.

“ _You know I would_ ,” Kuroo singsongs in a dangerously happy tone. “ _I’m hanging up. Go_.”

The call ends and Bokuto stares at the phone for a long time. The rational part of him knows that Kuroo is probably right, he often is, and he likes to remind people of that fact too. But the rational part of him is a timid little fucker and it makes doing rational things very difficult.

Flopping back on his bed Bokuto groans, loud and long, to no one in particular, just at this whole fucked up situation. Why did he let it get like this? Right… Lust. _Stupid hormones._

Before he can lose his nerve Bokuto sends Tsukishima a message saying that he’s coming over, he shoves the phone in his pocket – refusing to look at it again – and pulls on a jacket. Bokuto storms out of his house purposefully and wills himself not to think. Thinking is bad. Thinking is dangerous. He sings a song in his head – _not_ a love song – focussing very carefully on the lyrics.

Bokuto knocks on the Tsukishima house front door without even realising he’s doing it, coming back down to reality as he waits. The tall leggy blond opens the door, his eyebrows raised in an exasperated expression.

“I thought I told you to stay home and do your homework,” he drawls.

Somewhere along the walk Bokuto was vaguely aware of receiving a message.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Bokuto snaps weakly.

Tsukishima’s lips twitch as he represses a smile but he doesn’t respond, he simply moves out of the way to allow Bokuto entrance. Without hesitation Bokuto enters, slipping his shoes off and mumbling a ‘pardon the intrusion’ before walking to Tsukishima’s room. Once inside he starts restlessly pacing the small space because he feels like every nerve in his body is twitchy with the energy his heart is furiously pumping through his body.

“Wow, what happened to you?” Tsukishima snickers light-heartedly as he closes the door behind him and sits on his bed. “Do I need to call Akaashi to go through the weakness list with him?”

Bokuto groans. “I can’t believe he told you that.”

In his peripheral vision he can see Tsukishima’s brow crease with concern as all humour fades. “Seriously, Bokuto, what’s wrong? You’re making me nervous.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m nervous!”

He hums, disconcerted. “Clearly…”

“Sorry, I—Sorry.”

“Just, stop pacing and talk.”

Bokuto scoffs but stops pacing, turning to face Tsukishima. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Tsukishima winces, his hands curling into tight fists on his lap. He doesn’t speak though, his gold brown eyes narrowing on Bokuto with a mix of hurt and anger.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry! _Fuck_ ,” Bokuto buries his head in his hands, tugging at his wax hardened hair in annoyance. _Why is this so difficult?_ “I’m doing this really badly, I always knew I would. Stupid Kuroo giving me false confidence! Just—shit—I like—I really like you… Tsukki.”

Peaking up from behind his hands with a grimacing in preparation for rejection Bokuto watches Tsukishima’s eyes widen marginally before his brow falls into a confused frown.

“I know…” he says slowly.

“You—I… _What_?”

A smile spreads across Tsukishima’s mouth, slow and affectionate and genuine, before laughter starts bubbling in his throat. He slaps a hand over his mouth but it does little to conceal his laughter. Bokuto smiles, heart fluttering at the beautiful sight, the sight that made him fall for Tsukishima in the first place. Then he remembers what’s happening and frowns, face scrunching in confusion.

“Hey! W-Why are you laughing at me?” Bokuto demands, more embarrassed than annoyed. He takes a step forward, gripping Tsukishima’s wrist to stop him from hiding his face and hopefully stop him from laughing.

“You… You thought—” Tsukishima chuckles but regains control. “You thought I’d be doing all of this with you if I didn’t know you liked me? You thought I’d be kissing you if I didn’t like you in return?”

Bokuto’s eyes widen in shock and he feels his body numb as he rocks back on his heels. The hand that was gripped around Tsukishima’s goes limp but the blond’s long fingers find his waist to steady him, long past the nervousness of first touches.

“You like me…?” Bokuto asks the question slowly, as if he can’t believe the words are actually coming out of his mouth, and his gaze fixed on Tsukishima’s face. A pink flush rises on the blond’s cheeks but he smiles as he ducks his head. When he looks back up, honey coloured eyes earnest, he swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“N-No! What! Why!” Bokuto splutters.

“Are those actual questions?”

“No, I—what the fuck Tsukki? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tsukishima’s expression hardens and he sighs. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I’m just not very—I’m bad with words and emotions. Clearly.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait! If you knew I liked you then why didn’t you just say yes when I asked to kiss you?”

“I didn’t know then. I was hopeful when you asked but I needed to know why, so suddenly, you wanted to. Then you said it was for practice and I… I thought you liked Akaashi, so it kind of…”

 _Hurt_ , Bokuto thinks, wincing as he instantly understands Tsukishima’s pain.

“Shit, Tsukki,” he huffs, not sure what to say. So instead of saying anything he leans down and presses a soft kiss against his forehead, and then his cheek, and then his nose, until he finally kisses the small smile curling Tsukishima’s lips. They kiss, lazy and affectionate, as their hands slide gently, holding and touching. It’s comfortable and perfect and _right_.

“We’re stupid,” he chuckles against Tsukishima’s mouth.

“No, _you’re_ stupid, I’m just stubborn.”

“How is that any better?”

“Sit down, you’re hurting my neck.”

Bokuto grins and shakes his head. “No, I like looking down on you for once.”

Clicking his tongue with annoyance Tsukishima falls back on the bed. Bokuto won’t claim any grand scheme here, he’s not Kuroo, but this is better, much better. He climbs on top of Tsukishima and grins down at him, straddling his hips.

“So… You like me,” Bokuto says confidently, his cheeks hurting he’s grinning so broadly at the sound of it, “and I like you. We’ve been blowing each other—”

Tsukishima groans. “Can you stop saying that all the time like it’s a badge of pride?”

“It is a badge of pride! Your dick is amaz—”

“ _Stop!_ Get back to the point.”

“We’re, y’know, you and me, we’re together right?” Bokuto asks, heart stuttering with nervousness even though he’s fairly certain he knows the answer. “You’re my boyfriend…?”

Tsukishima’s cheeks are bright red and pained look crosses his features, but Bokuto knows it’s because he’s just as nervous.

“Y-Yes, if that’s… what you want.”

Bokuto nods energetically. “Of course it is!”

Tsukishima smiles, that joyful, uninhibited smile that is still the most beautiful thing Bokuto has ever seen. He knows he’ll see many more smiles like it to come so he eagerly presses his mouth against it, making it disappear under the warmth of his mouth.

 _I will truly_ never _get sick of kissing Tsukishima Kei, my boyfriend._

Bokuto hums contently as he pulls away but Tsukishima is frowning.

“What did you mean when you said Kuroo gave you false confidence?”

“Um, he was kinda the one that gave me the kick in the arse I needed to come and talk to you.”

The blond groans, grimacing with annoyance, and Bokuto suddenly wonders why he was idiotically jealous of Kuroo. “Oh my God, that arsehole isn’t going to let us live this down for _months_.”

“It’ll be fine Tsukki, you have me now!”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better how?”

“Because… Sex and stuff, endorphins or whatever, it’ll be good for your bad mood.”

A scowl falls across Tsukishima’s face behind his black rimmed glasses that are now askew and he sits up on his elbows, forcing Bokuto to sit upright. The position is very stimulating and all Bokuto wants to do is rock his hips and grind down against Tsukishima but the scowl on his face says that would be a bad idea. A _very_ bad idea.

“Get off.”

“What? No! Tsukki, I can fuck you now!”

“Like hell you can!”

Bokuto chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “I was just joking—” _sort of_ “—we can do other things! We just technically got together, we should be doing naughty things!”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Tsukishima says, shoving Bokuto off him. “You need to go home and do your homework, I know you haven’t even started on it yet.”

Getting to his feet Bokuto groans. “What do I even get out of being in a relationship with you?”

“You get to pass high school.”

“Okay, this is some ridiculously adorable wifey shit happening right now,” Bokuto remarks, feeling all warm and giddy, even while being pushed towards the front door. “But just so you know you’re cock-blocking both of us.”

“I am aware,” Tsukishima drawls, opening the front door. “Now go.”

“Wow, you and Kuroo are so damn pushy,” Bokuto says rising from tying his shoes.

He wraps his arms around Tsukishima’s waist, pulling them together tightly. Cold fingers come to rest at the nape of his neck, pushing into the hair there, and it sends a pleasant shiver down his spine. Bokuto likes Tsukishima’s hold hands, when he warms them it makes him feel important, needed; he’s got more than enough warmth for the both of them.

Bokuto pulls away enough to kiss Tsukishima wetly, teasingly. Then, because he refuses to lose, he gazes up into those sharp golden eyes and with an adoring smile curling his lips he whispers, “I love you Tsukki.” Only staying long enough to see the widening of his boyfriend’s eyes Bokuto turns on his heel and calls out a casual, “see ya tomorrow,” as he leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://sarolonde.tumblr.com/)


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